Chronicling Cross-Country

I needed an adventure.

Conveniently, my cousin and his wife needed an extra driver to help them move cross-country for medical school. Also conveniently, they were moving from my home state (Utah) to my current resident state (Virginia). Four drivers (my cousin, his wife, my aunt, and me), two vehicles (one car and one big yellow moving truck – with a second car on a trailer), and roughly 2,300 miles became the perfect recipe for a cross-country road trip. The only thing missing was a “Lynchburg or bust!” sign in the back window. But we had plenty of adventures nevertheless . . .

We set out on the first morning from my grandparents’ house, pointing our wheels toward Denver. It wasn’t long before we were headed over the Rockies, just in time for my first stint driving the moving truck. I discovered it was very slow on the uphills (apologies to those who were stuck behind us as we tried to pass the semis) and very fast on the downhills (yay for good gears and brakes).

We pulled into Denver that night hazard free and, thanks to my brother-in-law, with a good hotel room waiting for us. (Everyone was so impressed with his mad hotel wrangling skills, that we asked him to do find us places to stay throughout the rest of the trip; he graciously complied, which made the journey much easier and more pleasant for the rest of us.) We were then treated to an impromptu dulcimer concert from my aunt.

The emigrants: my cousin and his wife.
And my first truck parking job.

Our next destination was Independence, MO. On our way there we saw a lot of Kansas (crossing Kansas just takes longer than it looks like it should on the map), hay bales dressed up like Minions, other hay bales dressed up like American Gothic, and a crop-dusting plane worthy of an early 20^th century air show. (We did not stop to see the World’s Largest Ball of String or anything like that.)

And this is Kansas.

In Independence we went to the Visitor’s Center and took pictures on the Temple Lot. With a bit of looking around, we found where the corners of the temple would have been. 

A little later we went to Liberty Jail, where some of my favorite scriptures were received and written (D&C 123:16-17, D&C 121:45-46, D&C 122:8-9).

We also visited the Community of Christ’s temple, the inside of which is more like the Conference Center than an LDS temple. It has some appealing art and some interesting artifacts from the early history of the church. We all enjoyed comparing their hymnals to the LDS hymnbooks and were treated to some organ playing by an organist who was there to practice.

The Community of Christ
Temple

This tree is formed on layered
pieces of cloth.

Contemplating the organ
pipes in the sanctuary.

Next we headed to St. Louis. On our way into town, we were surprised by a tall building off the side of the freeway. We hadn’t known we were going to pass the St. Louis Temple, but sure enough, there was a bright white steeple topped by a statue of Moroni.

The St. Louis Temple surprised us as we drove by.
"Is that a Moroni on top? Yes, yes it is!"

Our aim was to eat a barbeque dinner at Pappy’s Smokehouse. Pappy’s was recommended to us with gusto by my cousin’s dad, so we made sure it was on our agenda. It is the type of place that doesn’t take reservations and sells out of food just about every night. They even post how much of certain dishes they have left for the customers still waiting in line. As we inched forward, I kept my eye on the number of ribs they had available (because if you are going to a specialty barbeque place, you should try the ribs). Guess who got the last ones? Yep, that would be me. And they were delicious.

I made a new friend at
Pappy's Smokehouse . . .

. . . and I got the last half rack of ribs.

My cousins and I grouped
around the Sold Out sign.

We also tried to see the Gateway Arch that night, but only sort of succeeded. The GPS sent us to the wrong side (where Missouri has jumped on the casino bandwagon) and by the time we were working our way back to the right side, it was getting late. As we passed the baseball stadium at the same time the game was getting out, we threw in the towel and headed to our hotel. Thus we only saw the arch from the car.

This jumble of signs was outside
our hotel. It was made in honor of
the local road configuration.

The next morning we attended church at a small branch in Mt. Vernon, IL where the speaker talked about the connection between teaching and learning (you can’t have one without the other) and the power and deliciousness of receiving the truth undiluted. We then set out through the skinny roads of Kentucky toward Mammoth Cave National Park. It was my turn to drive the moving truck again. I’ve driven many roads in Kentucky (as a missionary), but never in a big truck with a trailer. I found the experience a little over-stimulating, but we made it. And we did it without hitting anyone going the opposite direction and without going completely off the road (although the trailer wheels made frequent forays into the off-shoulder foliage). Good enough for me.

I tried to get on top of the sign, but didn't quite make it.

Waiting to start the Historic Tour.

It's kind of dark inside the cave. Our
tour guide had an old whale oil lantern
(sans whale oil, which is a little scarce
in Kentucky) and showed us what it
would have been like with only a
single lantern as a guide. The electric
lights showed us a lot more of the cave
than the old lantern would have.

The next day we left the truck at the hotel and went back to Mammoth Cave National Park in the car. There, we took the Historic Tour, which is a great one for hearing about saltpeter (the source of the phrase “petered out”), the boy who found the cave by following a bear, abandoned corsets (because why wouldn’t you discard such a thing to climb through a cave), the CCC building a stairway up over the dome, slaves guiding people through the caves, the bottomless pit (an auditory and visual illusion), and a handful of other stories. We successfully navigated “Fat Man’s Misery”, which was followed immediately by “Tall Man’s Misery” (being neither fat nor tall – nor a man, for that matter – neither of these were particularly problematic for me). The tour took us on a big loop through several sections of the cave and I found myself wishing I could do a time trial to see how fast I could get through it (I would want a headlamp, of course).

Standing at the only natural entrance to the cave.

I think this is the only picture where we managed to get all four
of us. We found the above butterfly posing for us near the river
Styx. The caterpillar was hanging out on the Mammoth Cave sign.

Before too long, we arrived in Virginia. We spent a night at my aunt and uncle’s house in Sterling, where we loaded a few more things into the moving truck (and all got a very good night’s sleep after a week on the road). The next morning we piled into the cars once more to caravan out to Lynchburg.

We ran into a lot of rain (literally) during our drive
into Sterling.

The caravan was great fun. My cousins were in the moving truck. I followed in their car. My aunt followed in another car so she would be able to drive me back to Williamsburg and herself back home. And my uncle followed in another car so he could get back to work the next day after helping with the move. The fabulous part was having walkie talkies, which were not only useful (they are so much easier than cell phones for group communication), but entertaining. We assigned code names (the moving truck was Big Lemon), played games, joked with each other, and generally enjoyed ourselves. Driving in a caravan is much more fun when walkie talkies are involved.

My cousins outside their new
apartment on move in day.

Lynchburg, despite its somewhat ominous name, is a good town. We spent the afternoon moving things in to my cousins’ apartment (which went very quickly thanks to help from the ward and some students). That evening we were treated to dinner by some kind and generous ward members (I believe there is a special place in heaven for people who will invite five strangers to join them for a somewhat impromptu meal).

My aunt and I (my uncle was already on his way to work) spent the next morning exploring a little bit of Lynchburg; we found an intriguing war memorial and took some pictures of the medical school. After helping return the moving truck to the rental place (which first required convincing the trailer to attach itself once again to the hitch), we bid my cousins farewell and got on the road toward Williamsburg.

My favorite part of the Lynchburg war memorial.
The rest of the memorial was a series of steps with
a landing for each major conflict in US history and
one for MIAs and POWs.

Liberty University College of Osteopathic Medicine

Before we went too far, however, we found ourselves right by Appomattox Court House (which, we learned, is a town, not a building). So of course we pulled off the road to see it. We didn’t have much time, but we stopped in Appomattox Courthouse (which is a building – and now a visitor’s center – but is not where Lee and Grant met) to see some of the displays and watch a video about Lee’s surrender. Then we went across the road and toured the big house where the surrender took place. We saw enough of the park to know we want to go back and see more.

Appomattox Courthouse
(located in Appomattox Court House)

This is the (rebuilt) house where
Lee surrendered to Grant . . .

. . . which is interesting to compare to the
slave quarters out back.

The flags were at half-mast on the day we
visited Appomattox. It seemed appropriate,
considering the nature of the site.

Then we were back on the road again. We made it safely to Williamsburg, after which my aunt set off on the very last leg of the journey back to her home in Sterling. (Somewhat inconveniently, Lynchburg, Williamsburg, and Sterling are all in different corners of Virginia. Many thanks to my aunt for going several hours out of her way to drop me off!)

My aunt, the kind soul who was willing
to drive an extra three hours to
bring me back to Williamsburg.

My cousin has, since then, started school and had his white coat ceremony (which is a medical school thing, apparently). I’m excited for him and his wife and this new adventure they’ve started.

Meanwhile for me, I have a few more weeks before classes start. So I get to do a little more adventuring. Appomattox, anyone?